


Rest in Peace

by Laxruar



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Adoption, Alternate Timelime - 1940, Bonding, Bottom Harry Potter, Child Tom Riddle, Dark Tom, Grey Harry, Harry is done with everything, Hogwarts, Lazy Harry, M/M, Manipulative Tom, Master of Death, MoD!Harry, Obedient Harry, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Possessive Tom, Powerful Harry, Relatable Harry, Slightly unhinged Harry, Teenage Tom Riddle, Top Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laxruar/pseuds/Laxruar
Summary: After outliving all his friends, Harry went back to where it all started. To the Orphanage, in 1935, Harry came to change history. Barely.





	1. Chapter 1 - To Where it all Started

**Author's Note:**

> Just saying, the beginning is to give you an idea on what the situation is, sorry if it's a bit boring.

Everyone was gone.

It was a plain and simple fact, yet it boggled Harry's mind. Hermione, Ron, Draco, Teddy; all of them gone, just like that. Not to mention everyone else. How could a dense population of magical people be gone in the time span of a flip of a switch? It didn't make sense. It was, however, the plain cold truth. It was hilarious. 

It took ten days for the whole magical community to be wiped out. 

He would know, he witnessed it all happen. 

On the First Day, six months after the Final Battle, he was outside strolling around Diagon Alley. He didn't go outside much then, there was really no point, the time could be used for better things - like sleeping. He came early there, however, as he planned to take out all his money from Gringotts so he didn't have to leave his house anymore. To live the life of a hermit. Ron was angry at him as he didn't join the Aurors with him, like they had planned for all those years. Hermione worried constantly about him, mothering over him as she commented on how he was so apathetic and lazy nowadays. Harry couldn't find it within himself to care. 

The Daily Prophet was the first one to publish it and show it to the world. A squib, in his hatred for the magical world, rose to power in the muggle world and told them of the existence of magical creatures and places. Most people thought that it was a good thing muggles finally knew of their existence. It was time the worlds joined togther. The lack of protesters was only due to fear of being called one of Voldemorts supporters, as the Ministry had been particularly strict on rounding them all up, imprisioning anyone who so much as mentioned a threat to muggles and muggleborns. So, the wards came down and everything was revealed. 

The muggles did not take to it kindly. Most of the First Day was spent in confusion in both worlds, sizing up the unknown. It was like aliens came down to Earth. The magical community was optimistic, reaching out and inviting the muggles in. Only the muggle armed forces met them. 

It wasn't until the Second Day that someone died. 

A wizard who went too far for comfort into the muggle world. Then it was like a switch has been triggered. Anyone who went into the muggle world was shot on sight. The Ministry claimed that they should comply, that it would all be over soon. It resembled a group of cockroaches telling to stay where they are and that the shoe wouldn't hurt them while the shoe slowly came down upon them. A number of people stayed under the shoe. Harry didn't care, he was away from muggles and wizards.

On the Third Day magicals finally gained some common sense, but there was no stopping the muggles as they came into popular wizarding places like Diagon and Hogwarts with guns and other weapons. Protection, they said, keeping everyone safe from harms way. Not many people believed it. The Ministry lapped it up happily. Harry remembered Draco visiting that day, sharing a cup of tea with him, discussing over trivial things. 

"They're going to destroy us," Draco stated.

"Don't be so pessimistic, maybe they'll surprise us." Harry replied. Harry could only sigh thinking back on himself.

The events of the Fourth Day were bound to happen eventually, and not many people expected it, delusional as they were. The guns weren't just for show anymore, and more muggles rained in into the magical world. Magic was banned. Magicals started to panic, as magic was their way of life, they couldn't survive without it. The muggles, however, did not accept 'no' as an answer. Muggles reigned supreme. 

On the Fifth Day, Harry was dragged out of his new hermit hiding hole by Hermione and Ron, who were both hellbent on getting him outside. They went to Diagon Alley, trying to ignore now muggles stared at them just like everyone else there was doing. No one noticed how the muggles all slipped out by midday. Then, an explosion happened. No one had any time to be surprised but Harry, who could only stare as time seemed to go in slow motion as Ron and Hermione and the crowd around them were torn to shreds from the explosion. As the dust settled around him, Harry forced himself to apparate home, unable to feel any emotions. 

The Sixth Day was tamer, with fortunately no explosions caused by muggles. The word about the explosion in Diagon was passed around, and people names who died were put into the paper. They said it was caused by some careless person using an untested spell; everyone knew it was a lie. Nothing was left of Diagon, just rubble and dust and unidentifiable body parts. No one wanted to go there anymore. Harry and Draco had met up that day, although Harry didn't want to.

"Are you surprised enough yet?" Draco bitterly laughed as he held up the Daily Prophet, Hermione's and Ron's names underlined. 

The Seventh Day was most memorable to Harry. He was the one who riled up things, as he always does. He was walking to the Malfoy manor, but he was caught. He didn't use his magic, although he could perform it wandlessly. His magic core grew larger since Hogwarts, he didn't know wether it had to do with Dumbledore or Voldemort dying. He didn't really care, all he knew is that he found no spell hard to perform and had complete control over wandless and wordless magic. The Seventh Day was when they gathered every magical being they could find and line the figureheads up on a stage, each killed one by one so the magicals lost hope. 

Harry was kneeling at the end of the stage, and in the crowd he could spot several people he recognised. Draco, Teddy with Andromeda, Mcgonagall, George, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Mrs and Mr Weasley, most people from school. And then there was the crowd, all looking at him like he should take the roll of Saviour again. Not to mention the goblins and the centaurs, along with other creatures.  They stared at him with wide eyes, those he was close to filling up with tears. They couldn't do anything to help him. Their wands had been confiscated, only he knew wandless magic, not that they knew that.

As the person next to Harry sobbed, he turned to find Fudge there, kneeling just like him. Tears and snot ran down Fudge's face, making a slightly ugly and pitiful sight. The muggle assassinator stepped up to Fudge, shouting to the crowd who Fudge was. Then, the blade was pointed to Fudge's throat, and in one quick slash, Fudge's lifeless eyes stared at Harry. 

"Harry Potter. The one who defeated the Dark Lord, who survived the so called killing curse twice. Your Saviour. Does he look like your Saviour now? Afraid to die?" The man spoke mockingly to the crowd who was in complete and utter silence. Despite what the man had said, Harry was not afraid to die. He yearned for it in fact, but he knew he was going to live this. Just as he was going to live for years to come. Death simply didn't want him. Death wouldn't take his Master, after all. So he grinned.

"Do you really think I'd be afraid of you? Pitiful creatures striving to come out on top? If we took out your technology, then we would win with a click of our fingers. I think you're putting yourself in a higher position than you actually are in." Harry said. Although his tone was normal, it rang around the crowd, even the ones at the back hearing it. They looked at him with fearful and worried eyes.

"I don't think you realise the position you're in. You are going to die today." The man stated. Harry laughed.

"Do your worse!" The knife came down, a clean slice on his neck. He chocked on blood, coughing out the metallic taste. He slumped momentarily on the platform. The man grinned, ready to speak about how Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Couldn't-Die, was dead, but was stopped by a kick in his shin. He toppled over, and Harry was straddling his chest and had the knife in his hand in a second. "Do I look dead to you?" Harry taunted. 

"Im-Impossible!" The man stuttered out. The crowd too was shocked, as they saw the blade come down and slice Harry's neck, and the blood was still there on his throat. Just when Harry was about to stab the man, bullets rained down onto the crowd. Harry's eyes widened, before jumping down and casting a wandless barrier over the crowd so bullets couldn't get through. The muggles brought out a device Harry didn't recognise, shaped like a phone with needles sticking out. Harry's confusion grew when they put it onto his shield. Suddenly, hot spikes of electricity was directly attacking his magic core. He fell down, screaming in pain whilst the shield collapsed. Harry lost consciousness when Draco and George picked him up, all of them leaving with the rest of the Weasley clan and whoever was lucky enough to come along to Hogwarts. 

Harry awoke on the Eigth Day in Hogwarts, where a few people and creatures camped from the muggles. The wards were ancient, and stopped the muggles from getting few. He couldn't remember much about it, as the electricity that was like lightening attacked his magical core, making it a day of pain. They were the only magicals left apparently, as everyone else was killed that day. People were losing hope, and Harry could do nothing but writhe in pain.

On the Ninth Day Harry's core was back to normal. Mrs Weasley worried over him as usual, and everyone was asking questions on how he lived, and after lying about how he doesn't know, they surmised it as the brilliant power of the Boy-Who-Lived. Draco stared at him suspiciously.

The Ninth Day was the day everyone died. It was nearing twelve, nearing the Tenth Day, and everyone was asleep. A ripple of magic awoke Harry, and he couldn't tell what in his sleep induced dase, but he knew something was different. And it was. The wards were gone; with nothing for protection, bombs fell.

Everyone around him took their last breath.

On the Tenth Day, Harry laughed and laughed until his stomach was hurting and he had no breath left. Until he noticed the tears streaming down his face, and even then he fell into a new round of giggles. It was all so hilarious! No one left but him! No one! Nothing! So here he was now, crying and laughing and writhing on the ground with dust in his hair, on his clothes, everywhere. 

"Master," Death said from beside him. Stopping his laughter, he looked up to see the hooded being looming over him, like the reaper he is. He stood up.

"Death, there's no one, nothing." Harry chuckled shortly, suddenly feeling very tired. "Who's here Death?"

"Everyone. Your family, your friends, all those that you cared for." Death answered. As the dust settled, that thumping of muggles getting closer to where they were rang out. Harry wondered what he must look like to everyone. His parents were probably looking at him with pitying eyes. Remus was probably constantly worrying over him. Sirius would try to make fun of the situation, probably commenting on how the Black madness didn't skip him even though only his grandmother was a Black.  Snape was most likely sneering at him, making a sarcastic comment on how stupid he was. He could practically feel Hermione's and Ron's worried looks. Maybe the dreamily gaze of Luna.

"Can you take me now?"

"No Master," Death responded.

"Why not? There's nothing left." Harry said, feeling irritated. All he always wanted was to rest in peace! "Don't you understand Death!?" Harry shouted. "I've got nothing!"

"You seemed pretty happy with nothing a few days ago," Death irked. Harry bristled in anger.

"Look, I never wanted to be your Master!" Harry summoned the cloak, the ring and the wand. "I never wanted to have this stupid cloak!" He yelled, dumping the cloak on the ground and stamping on it. "I never wanted to have this stupid ring!" He dropped the ring on the ground and smashed it with his foot. "And I especially never wanted this stupid bloody wand!" He snapped the wand into pieces like he done in the Final Battle, and threw it at Death. 

"I don't want to be immortal." Harry muttered in a weaker voice, sinking down to the ground. He could almost feel the invisible dead people around him, looking at him sympathetically. 

"But you are, and there is no way to escape it." Death said.

Harry laughed. "Then what happened to your last Master? Huh? Did he just disappear off the face of the Earth? Or are you not telling me the truth? 'Cause it sure seems that way." He sighed. "I don't want to live anymore. Why won't you just take me?"

"Because, Master, there's still time. You can go anywhere to any time. All you need to do is ask." 

"So I can stop this mess from ever happening? I can save everyone?" 

"Yes," Death agreed. Blinking slowly, Harry made the decision. He would go back, way back, to the very beginning. Where everything started. But he didn't want to look after a baby, a child was easier to deal with, so it would have to be a few years after the beginning.

"I made my decision." Harry stated. "I think we should go now."

"Of course, Master."

"I still don't like you." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2 - Snape and David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A black bunny, an oblivious Harry, goblins, lots of books, an ugly duckling and home.

Harry landed with an 'oompf' in 1935.

He felt like his insides were in the wrong places, mixing around to get to their rightful spots, making him nauseous in the process. Bile rises up his throat, but he forced it down, worrying over choking on it. His breaths came in short pants as if he had run a mile. Needless to say, it wasn't a nice position to be in. Time seemed to go slow as he sorted himself, his breaths calming down and standing up slowly.

Looking up, Harry found he was surrounded by dense vegetation. Thick dark trees surrounded him on every side, looming over him hauntingly, somewhat familiar. It didn't take long to realise he was in the Forbidden Forest. A subdued shuffling of a bush alerted Harry who spun around to see what it was, hand grabbing for his wand. He only met emptiness, however, as he remembered his wand was taken off him by _muggles_. Whilst Harry was stewing in his dark thoughts, a harmless black bunny jumped out, causing Harry to look at it dully.

"Seriously?" He muttered as the bunny jumped towards him, sniffing curiously at his hand before trying to jump onto him in his kneeled down position. Standing back up, ignoring the bunny still hopping around his feet, he reached out carefully with his magic, poking at the wards. He was still in Hogwarts grounds, it seemed, and would have to walk a little to get out of them.

Sighing a long deep sigh, like he hadn't had any sleep in days, he strode forward. When he heard little feet pounding beside him, he looked down to find the bunny easily keeping up with him. Walking a little faster, Harry determinedly attempted to leave the bunny behind. The bunny didn't want to be left behind.

"Get lost, will you?" Harry asked the bunny. The bunny somewhat glared at him with its beady eyes. It reminded him of someone. Contemplating for a moment, he picked the bunny up in his arms and made his way forward again; the bunny happily cosying himself in his arms. Harry resisted chucking it as far as he could.

Successfully arriving at the edge of the wards, he went to apparate to Diagon Alley, but thought better of it looking down at himself. He was still covered in dust, and he was sure not an inch of skin was revealed under the grey dirt on himself. His clothes were torn and dirty; if someone saw him they might think he wasn't even human. The problem is, however, is that he had no idea what muggle or wizarding fashion is like in the 1930s. Harry felt that he should have planned this beforehand instead of just stupidly going in.

Apparating to a muggle alleyway beside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry placed a disillusionment charm on himself and the bunny, watching the muggles pass by clueless. Choosing a random muggle who's clothes could be counted as muggle and magical - at least Harry thought they could - he transfigured his dirty clothes into an exact copy. It was a simple black dress shirt with slacks and an overcoat, with a fedora with dark green lining. Harry felt too smart.

As he stepped into the busy street, people stopped and stared at him. Remembering the bunny in his arms, Harry cursed at it for giving him so much attention, wishing he could just throw the bunny away. Hurrying over to the Leakey Cauldron, he sighed a breath of relief, glad to be away from the muggles. Making his way past the younger Tom - now wasn't _that_ scary - who was serving at the bar, tapping at the wall with his magic filled finger, and almost having a panic attack at the sight of Diagon Alley as a whole, Harry reckoned his first day was going fairly well.

Only a few people spared him a glance as he made his way through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley (Harry cursed the bunny under his breath yet again) and even then it was only a curious glimpse. Easily finding his way to Gringotts, he bowed at the goblins as he passed and they stared at him in surprise, as creatures are seen as below wizards.

"Good afternoon, Bogrud, I wish to claim my inheritances." Harry stated as he bowed to the goblin. He knew that whatever time he may be in, the Peverell line will always be his, as the Master of Death. Bogrud studied him with narrowed eyes as a grin showing too many sharp teeth appeared on his face.

"Three drops of blood on the parchment, no more no less." Begrudge said as a small knife and a piece of parchment conjured on the desk. Harry quickly done as told, knowing goblins have little to no patience, and he wanted to stay on their good side.

Obviously, the Peverell line showed up first, clear as day at the top of the parchment. Harry was surprised that the Ravenclaw name followed, however, and assumed that Death meddled with his blood upon arriving here. What followed was a list of small pureblood and halfblood names, none holding much influence. Harry was glad to know that he was rich once again, happily thinking of his dream to live as a hermit might yet come true.

"Lord Peverell, I will take you to your account manager now." Bogrud said, beckoning Harry to follow him. He took him to an office not far from the main hall. A goblin was waiting in there. "This is your account manager Grinuk. I shall take my leave."

"May your gold flow," Harry said before Bogrud had the chance to leave. Bogrud was stunned for a minute, standing there with the door wide open.

"And your enemies tremble," Bogrud replied before leaving, thinking that the goblin race had attained a new friend.

Business with Grinuk was short and efficient. Harry was pleased with the performance, and Grinuk can't help but be proud of that. The lordship rings that he was due succefully claimed him as the lord. Harry had gotten enough gold out of his account to last a year, as well as any book that were lying about in there. They also searched through the Peverell's land, as several manors were unused for years. Harry easily chose the one he wanted to move into, where Tom will grow up, with little to no thinking. It was a very small manor compared to all the rest, but that is what Harry like about it. He also thought Tom would appreciate it as well, since the library was one half of the manor. It could surpass the Hogwarts library. The only down side was that the manor was left for an unknown amount of time, the cleaning could be gone with a swish of a wand, but the library was outdated. Harry would have to buy books from this time.

After bidding goodbye to Grinuk and leaving Gringotts, Harry wondered what to do next. He supposed books would be the most important.

"I need a copy of every book you have in here," Harry ordered to the cashier once he went into Flourish and Blotts. Not many people were in the store seeing as it was during the school year. 

"Every-every book!?" The young woman behind the counter stuttered. 

"Yes, every book." Harry doesn't know what interests Tom has, (there is a strong suspicion he'll be attracted to darker books) so it's best to get eveything, even if it was just books on how to bake an apple pie. Once over her shock, the young woman hollered for another worker to help her. A few minutes later, Harry was walking out the shop, satisfied, with a shrunk pouch containing hundreds of books.  

Next was to get an owl. As Harry made his way to Eeylops Owl Emporium, the bunny pouted the whole way, nibbling on Harry's fingers to try to get him to not go. When he finally arrived, the store manager greeted him, pointing out all the beautiful birds on showcase. After Hedwig's death, Harry never felt the need or the want to get a new bird, as the gorgeous snowy white owl was just for him. So he's determined to get the opposite from Hedwig, so he won't be hurt whenever post comes. And he sees the one for him. The owl was hidden at the back, tins of owl treats trying to cover the owl up. The owl could be described in one simple word: ugly. One ugly duckling. The screech owl was brown and black, with some feathers sticking up randomly. The too small eyes were the size of M&Ms, orange ones at that. 

"Are you sure, sir? Although the owl does have good speed and performance, there are better owls." The manager looked worriedly at him. 

"I'm sure. It's this one I want." He gave the address to his new home, letting the owl fly off to meet him there, and paid for him. After buying a some owl treats, a cage and other necessities, Harry was relieved to be able to finally go home. He just wanted to collapse on a couch. 

Fate didn't think the same.

Tall grass surrounded the small manor, the garden unkempt and messy all around, making Harry dread trying to clean it all up. There were no houseelves for this manor, although Harry could call others from the other manors, but he was pretty sure they were all dead. He was right. In the entrance hall of the manor was the rotting corpse of a house elf. Lovely. Harry didn't want a house elf for the manor, as he was afraid it would comply with every one of Tom's orders when he gets there. Harry can live with a dark murderous megalomaniac, but he _was not_ living with a version of a child Draco. He refused. 

Harry decided to work as he went. Putting the bunny down, who hopped away only a few feet to go sniff something, Harry sent a cutting spell to the grass and vanished the remains. Soon enough, there was a neat garden with only a dirty water fountain sporting the Peverell coat of arms and a bench marring the picture, and after a few spells they were pristine too. 

The entrance hall was easy to do. There wasn't much there, after all. It was small compared to most manors, like everything else in the building. There was lots of dust to clean up, piles upon piles of it, and only that used a vanishment spell. 

The dining room and the kitchen were connected. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, in need of new candles, glass reflecting the sun that came through the windows. The table was a dark wood, eight chairs matching the theme. On the right side was a fireplace which was below a large mirror. Cabinets full with plates and other utensils was beside it. Thankfully, everything was working in the kitchen. All the charms placed on the objects hundred of years ago were still keeping up. Of course, Harry added onto them as better charms had come out since then. He would owl-order food so he wouldn't have to go outside, or maybe he could get food when he picked up Tom? Harry would decide later. 

If there was one place that needed improvement, it was the lounge. It still had outdated couches that were like sitting on rocks, and a portrait of a woman who kept shouting in old language about her dog or something. Harry quickly banished her off to who-knows-where. There was, however, a nice big fireplace that looked particularly comfy to sleep next to, which Harry was wishing he could do. Sunlight peered through heavy drapes at the three massive windows, the only light source as the candles were gone in this room as well. 

When Harry walked into the library, he was serverly impressed. Rows upon rows upon rows of books went for miles, and even then there were stairs to go up to a second floor. There was a table with a book opened on it, and when Harry went to see what it was, the title was _The Best Spells to Kill Thy Enemies_. Harry made sure that one was at the back of the library. Tom would undoubtedly get round to it soon, and Harry should probably get rid of the book, but he didn't really care. Tom could kill all the muggles he wanted as long as he didn't get caught.

A few sofas were also around, as well as a chaise longue which was really comfy. Harry arranged the books so darker books were at the back, whereas questionable ones were in the middle, and lighter ones at the front, adding the ones he bought. He also created wards so no one could get past the lighter section without him there. Again, he didn't really care if Tom read dark books or came home carrying Dumbledore's head without the body; he just wanted to make sure he wasn't on the _Who I'm Going to Torture List by Tom Riddle_. So if Tom was taking out a _How to Torture Your Adopted Guardians_ book, Harry at least knew he should run. 

There was one office in the manor in total. Just a small room with a desk, containing quills and dried up ink and paperwork from hundreds of years ago. There was also a little bookshelf and a couch lined up with the fireplace. 

Everything else in the manor was either a bathroom, or a bedroom. There were nine bedrooms in total, one master one and another bigger-than-usual bedroom. Harry supposed that was where him and Tom were sleeping. He didn't think the rooms had any meaning, at least he couldn't remember Draco mentioning them in his Let's-Torture-Harry-Day-But-Call-it-Teaching-Pureblood-Etiquette. All the bedrooms had a connected bathroom, a king or queen sized bed, a large wardrobe, a mirror, and a lounge. The master bedroom, he really liked though. It was mostly cream coloured, with a four poster bed that had a lounge at the end, and bedside tables either side. It connected to a circular room filled with windows and with couches inside that looked like the perfect place to read a book. Harry wanted to fall asleep right then. 

The owl he had bought and the bunny decided to intervene just when he was about to go to sleep on the cozy bed, already lying down. He briefly wondered whether the cruciatus curse would work on them or the real question, if he could do that to them. 

"I need to name you two," Harry muttered as he stroked the bunny's fur and the owl nipped at his hair. The bunny's black beady eyes glared at him, as if telling him hell would come if the bunny got a stupid name. It did remind him of someone. "Your name is now Snape." Harry told the bunny. "Your's is..." Harry trailed off, not thinking of anyone in particular. "David." A random name thought of on the top of his head.

"Snape and David. Nice to meet you, I'm Harry." 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3 - The Orphanage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drab place, annoying kids, and one mistrustful Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The Orphanage had nothing to brag about.

In fact, Harry reckons that if someone brought it up in conversation to one of the Orphanage occupiers, then they would try to steer the conversation away or quickly excuse themselves. It was a drab place, which seemed to be still standing up by its own sheer will. Harry marvelled at how, even in war conditions, it managed through. Until Tom burned it to the ground, that is. Still, despite the grim appearance, the laughter of children rang out around the grounds. They won't be laughing in 1938 and onwards, Harry thought cruelly.

Harry had made a meeting to see the children this morning over the phone with Mrs Cole. Of course, he was only getting Tom, no one else. He hadn't planned to do so, anyway, as he didn't think there were any other magical children there. If there are, well then, Harry wouldn't pick them in any event. By getting another child beside Tom, Tom might feel under appreciated, or hate towards Harry. And Harry really wanted to stay off Tom's _Who I'm Going to Torture_ List. Since that was a thing now. Even if Tom barely paid attention to him or treated him like nothing, it was fine, because Harry was determined not to go onto that List. In any case, the meeting that was set up was only for the purpose of putting false hope into the children. To Harry, there was nothing better to crush muggle's dreams. Unless it was killing them, of course, but Harry didn't know if he could do that. Maybe he was being a bit petty, but he didn't really care.

Since he was a few minutes early, he placed a disillusionment spell on himself and traveled around the Orphanage's grounds. There were quite a few kids running around the small field of grass behind Wool's Orphanage. The staff were hollering at them to come inside, saying someone is coming to adopt, and all the kids' face lit up in joy. Harry giggled gleefully. There was one child though, one Tom Marvolo Riddle, who was sitting under a tree, intently reading a book.

Harry's breath caught at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes, and feeling like time came to a stop. This was Voldemort. A child Voldemort, but Voldemort nonetheless. This small frail child which was no taller than his chest was going to become the most powerful Dark Lord in history. He was going to kill hundreds, if not thousands, of muggle and magical people. Could he really do this? Could he really raise the child who he was destined to defeat, who he has defeated before, to become that ruthless megalomaniac?

Harry's restless thoughts came to a halt as Tom peeked up over his book. Tom looked around the little field, seeing that he was alone as everyone had gone inside. Harry didn't dare to move. Tom glanced around the field, seemingly surveying it, until his eyes came to a stop right where Harry was. Hopefully, the disillusionment charms were keeping up, as it would be hard to explain, thought Harry. He prodded at his magic just in case and was relieved when he felt his magic surrounding him. Harry stared into those dark bottomless pits, which contained the intelligence not suited for a eight year old, which enchanted him. He couldn't help but be tempted to try Legilimency on Tom, but quickly brushed away the idea, as he remembered Tom had brilliant control of his mind since he was small. Thankfully, the dark brown orbs moved away from his, as Tom observed the rest of the yard, seemingly not finding what he was looking for. Or he had seen Harry, and was faking it.

Tom stood up with his book gripped tightly in his hand, brushing away any grass that might have stuck to him, and took one last sweeping glance around the yard. After he was satisfied, he followed where the rest of the children went, albeit a bit slower. 

When Tom had disappeared from view, Harry felt like he could finally breath again. Gasping in deep gulps of air, he rethought his decision. The idea of adoption seemed daunting now. He didn't know why he was reacting so badly with little Tom Riddle; it was silly. But Tom Riddle was the Dark Lord and he was alive and Harry was going to live with him and _Harry was going to live with him._  Eight year old Tom Riddle was already slightly evil, probably had hung the rabbit by the rafters by now, and who knows what else. It was good though, as they were muggles, so they deserved it. And Tom only hurt people who hurt him, it was simply getting revenge. So if Harry didn't get in his way, then there would be no problem, Harry concluded to himself. 

Mrs Cole greeted him kindly after he went back up front and _finite'd_  the disillusionment spell. The women looked worn out and strict, briefly reminding Harry of McGonagall, but this muggle could never compare. Her sharp features could cut like a knife and from either the Depression or running the orphanage, she had the figure of a stick. She appeared to be surprised at his young age of only eighteen years, nearing onto nineteen but a pink blush lit up her face as she stared at his face. Harry thought she was sick as well as being too skinny. 

She led him to a main room where all of the children were, playing about or gazing at him reverently. Harry spotted him again sat in a dark corner, head stuck in a book, not even bothering to look up at him, the one who could get him out of this dump. Tom probably thought that from past experiences, he hadn't got a chance, which Harry found ironic, as he was the only one who had a chance in the room. Not even a chance, it was full expectancy. 

Children gathered around him, losing interest in what they were doing before. Seeing that he was clothed like a rich aristocrat, and certainly had the looks of one, they attempted to subtly smooth down their grey clothes and messy hair, and wipe the dirt off their faces. The older girls even dared to pull their skirts up a bit more and ride up their cleavage so it almost jumped out of their clothes. Harry grimaced. Mrs Cole, seeing his expression, made fleeting stop gestures at them and tried to distract Harry with the little children. 

"Hello, mister. Are you here to adopt one of us? None of us has been adopted for quite some time now, and we are all so restless, please would you be so kind to?" The words rolled off the tongue strangely of a boy with straw coloured hair. The speech was undoubtedly planned and didn't go well with how the boy talked. He was likely trying to impress him with speech. With how the boy walked forward confidently and smiled piggishly, he obviously thought that he had gotten Harry in the bag just as he had done with other adults. Harry knew a bully when he saw one. 

"Mr Peverell, this is Billy Stubbs. He's been at the orphanage since he was a babe, and he's grown into a right nice lad, a real charmer. He hasn't done a thing wrong his whole time here, and he knows how to read and write." Mrs Cole presented proudly, Billy puffing his chest out as well. They glanced at Harry's face, expecting to see joy and telling them ' _yes, this is the one I want!_ ' but no such thing happened. His face remained unimpressed and impassive. A brief dip into Billy's mind showed thoughts of money and luxury. Harry wanted to scoff.

Seemingly bored with Billy, he peered around the room again and stopped when he caught dark eyes. Tom Riddle was staring at him over his book, eyes holding a startling amount of _nothingness_ , yet it was like they were blazing. Tom didn't look down when Harry met his eyes and neither was willing to look away. Everyone around them didn't matter in that moment and time slowed; a glimmer of curiosity filled Tom's eyes before they swiftly disappeared under folds of masks. He felt a force pushing against his Occulmency walls, so he retaliated. Tom's eyes widened. Harry looked down.

"I believe I have chosen the one I want," Merlin, he just wanted to go back to bed. 

Mrs Cole and Billy seemed to assume he wanted to adopt Billy, as they both gave big grins full of joy. Looks like there were more dreams he was crushing. Billy quickly disappeared off to wherever and Mrs Cole shooed him to her office. It was just a dreary as the rest of the building, with peeling wallpaper and worn out wood. He sat stiffly in the guest chair that was lumpy and uncomfortable as Mrs Cole took her place behind the desk. She shuffled in her drawers and took out some files labeled 'Billy Stubbs'. 

"Oh no, you've misunderstood me, he's not the one I want. I want the boy in the corner, the one that was reading a book." Harry intervened. He thoroughly enjoyed as Mrs Cole's expression turned from shock to dismay. Hesitantly, she began speaking.

"Mr Peverell, I ask you to rethink this decision. The boy you want...he is the devil. Tom Riddle has caused many evils but we cannot stop him as he is a boy. He had hung Billy's rabbit from the rafters! He's despicable! Not to mention sometimes he bullies the other orphans and speaks to himself. He's simply a lost cause." 

"It is as you say, he is a boy. Just a boy. I am not presuming he can do no wrong, and maybe he has done a few bad things, but he is the one I would like to adopt. You cannot change my decision. Now, may I adopt him?" Mrs Cole could only nod. She changed the file of Billy Stubbs' to Tom Marvolo Riddle's. It was a small file, containing only how he ended up at the orphange, his name and birthdate, and his recorded behaviour. Most of it was bad. 

"I recommend you meet him beforehand. He will probably be reading in his room at this time, it is probably the best time." Getting up out of her chair and hurrying out the room, Harry followed. She led him down gloomy hallways lined with an endless amount of doors, until she stopped at one in particular. Knocking politely, and gesturing for Harry to stay, she entered the room and shared a short amount of words with Tom before she came back out. Looking fully resigned, she held the door open for him to go in. The door closed behind him. 

Tom was sat on his bed in his small room, his unblinking eyes staring at Harry. Harry had a flashback to Dumbledore's memories of him going here to get Tom for Hogwarts. Looking away from the gaze, he observed the room instead. A simple desk stood on the corner with a few books piled on top of it, with a wooden wardrobe off to the side. It was exactly the same as the room in Dumbledore's memories, despite it being a few years prior. Harry found it quite scary.

"Nice room," was all he managed to say as he inspected the titles of the books.  

"I was told you wish to adopt me." Tom stated, still staring. 

"You were told true," Tom's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

"Why? Billy was cozying up to you just fine." Harry's grimace was the answer. "For what reason do you want to adopt me? We only made eye contact, that is not enough for you to want to adopt me. Unless you had planned it beforehand, but then you wouldn't have bothered to arrange a meeting." Tom thought aloud. 

Harry finally looked at the boy he planned to adopt. Styled dark hair, dark eyes and perfect aristocratic features with baby fat still clinging made him a mixture between adorable and handsome. Then he caught an irregularity. Whenever he tried to glimpse behind Tom, he leaned sideways slightly, hiding something from sight. A slithering bump in the sheets told Harry all he needed to know. 

"Looks like you've got a friend there." He said, clearly watching the moving snake hid underneath the bed sheets. Tom hissed menacingly at him, glaring hatefully. Tom dug his hand under the sheet, procuring a small snake curled around his hand, which was hissing at Harry. It was clearly an attempt to scare him. 

:Hello: Harry greeted the snake, much to the surprise of Tom. 

"You're like me." Tom stated, ignoring the snake's greeting back. Harry didn't agree or disagree. "Who are you?" 

"Harry Peverell, unless you prefer Harrison, and the one who wishes to adopt you." Tom was dissatisfied with the short answer, but didn't pursue it.

"Why should I let you adopt _me_?"

"Other then the fact that 'I'm like you', if you don't come with me, you'll still have to wait a few years to get out of this hell hole. I can also offer information about everything, why you do the things you do, how to get more powerful. I have a full library of books you can use. There's also a house away from these _people_ and the money you can get." Harry realised how it sounded like he was applying to become Tom's first minion. Tom stared at him for a moment, considering his answer.

"Fine, I'll let you to adopt me, but if I don't like it, or find out you are lying to me, then you have to bring me back here." Harry nodded his consent. Gathering his meagre amount of things, and setting the snake free - turns out Tom only brought him in because of the cold the previous night - Harry and Tom left the room. Harry noted that there wasn't yet a box in the cupboard.

Mrs Cole brought them both back to her office, her expression clearly showing she was weary about the adoption. She gave papers to Harry that he had to sign, and after a brief discussion on names, Tom Marvolo Riddle turned into Tom Marvolo Peverell, as Tom already hated his name. 

Waving them goodbye at the door, Mrs Cole watched them go. Tom followed Harry as he walked pointlessly down a street. Seeing that Harry was just wondering around meaninglessly, lost in his own thoughts, Tom stopped and made a face.

"Where are we going? Don't tell me that you don't have a house or something, because the walk back to the orphanage is just a street away." Harry rolled his eyes. Glancing around, he spotted a small alleyway between houses. Gesturing for Tom to keep up, he went down the path where no one was and reached out his hand for Tom to grab. He looked at it distrustfully. 

"I won't bite." Harry smirked, his first real emotion on his face in front of Tom. Reluctantly, Tom put his own hand in Harry's. "Grab hold tight. It's your first time so you may be a bit sick." Before Tom had time to question the words, the sensation of being squeezed into a tube muddled him as they appeared in front of the manor. 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4 - Magic

The first thing Tom did upon glimpsing at the manor was throw up.

Of course, the manor was not at fault for making him puke, as that would be rather pathetic. It was the simple fact that even though Tom would grow up to be a murderous megalomaniac, he was still just a child, and side-apparition was in no way suited for a child's body. The act of side-apparating with a child was heavily frowned upon as the children's magic could see this as a threat, and as a result a burst of accidental magic could be pushed out, potentially harming both the adult and the child.

No, it was not the manor's fault, but the person who was stressfully wondering if he should comfort Tom or wait until he finishes. Harry never actually thought about the consequences of apparating and it only came to him right when they teleported. And now Harry dreaded what would come afterward. It was not the cleanup that made Harry fear the future, rain and animals could do just fine in accomplishing that, but the fact that Tom would definitely work out he was at fault for making him lose his superior expression, if he hasn't worked it out already. If Fate really didn't like Harry, which Harry knows she doesn't, Tom would figure that he was a dunce who only kept an expressionless air to look smart. To add more salt to the wound, Tom would then definitely dislike, if not hate him, because Tom hated dumb people and Harry kind of made a fool out of him. At least no one else was around to see, Harry comforted himself.

Finally reaching a decision, he placed a gentle hand on the boy's back. However, this only made Tom more angry than he already was, and he glared at Harry with such intensity Harry knew that it'd be a long and bumpy road ahead, added with a range of danger, more so than before.

"Get off of me!" Tom snarled. Harry quickly retreated his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have gone with you! What did you do? I want to go back. Bring me-" His eyes fixated on the outstanding building behind Harry.

"Erm, this is the house..." Harry awkwardly muttered, his character a big contrast to how he acted before. Tom did not give any reaction to his words, seemingly entranced by the elegant but small manor. Harry but his lip, wondering what the hell he should do. He reasoned to himself that he has to show Tom the way around. "Right, come along." Tom shook out of his stupor, a small pink blush staining his cheeks for being so out of it. As Harry shuffled forward, Tom followed, his harsh words long forgotten.

Harry led him around the house, pointing up things here and there. Tom followed him without complaint, spurred by the new and fancy surroundings, not uttering a word. Harry could understand; this was probably the most beautiful place Tom had ever seen or visited, so he would obviously be in awe of the place. But to Hogwarts, the small manor was nothing. It was like a pigeon trying to compare to a peacock.

When Harry had finished his tour(sort of, he never showed the library because he needed to explain some stuff first, like magic), stopping at the door to the bedroom of Tom, Tom came out of his daze. He suddenly remembered his past anger and flushed red in fury, stomping away into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Harry couldn't help but feel under appreciated. I just showed you around so you wouldn't get lost and this is how you thank me! I could have left you to just wander around instead! Harry shook his head, knowing for the next few years, this is what he will have to deal with. Anyway, Tom would probably jump at the idea of wondering around by himself, trying to figure out all of Harry's secrets. Not that Harry would keep any from him. It would be a recipe for disaster if he found out.

Sighing, Harry didn't bother to knock or call for Tom. It would be pointless. Anyway, as soon as he left, Tom would probably come out and snoop around. Instead, he decided to go to the library. Before he has spotted a book on the current laws and about the ministry, and Harry wanted to see how strict everything was as in the future it would be beneficial for Tom's future for his name to get around. The only people who he didn't want to hear his name was Dumbledore and Grindelwald, as at this time they would both be obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, but Harry knew it was ultimately useless trying to hide his name from them. They would find out sooner or later.

For a few hours he spent his time in the library, looking over all the books he could find that were about the ministry and the wizarding community, and he only noticed the time by the darkening sky outside. Tom must be hungry. With a regretful sigh, he left the books open on the table. Tom didn't know of the library and even if he did or stumbled upon it Harry doubted he would mess with the books, probably just check them out and get distracted by something else, something darker.

Harry first stopped at Tom's room, finding it empty. When there was no answer after his consistent knocking, he decided to let himself in, praying to Merlin that Tom didn't just not want to answer. Fortunately, the room was empty, not a bit out of place as how it was before. It didn't even look like someone had been in the room. The grey bedding and black pillows on the four poster bed didn't even have a crease in, and the quills and ink on the desk hadn't been moved an inch.

His next guess was the dining room, but upon arriving, he found that Tom wasn't there either. A quick check in the kitchen and Harry was starting to get worried. Feeling anxious, Harry distracted himself by cooking, but remembered he hadn't bought any food because he had forgotten to when picking up Tom. Dragging out a long exhausted sigh, he quickly apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and bought some takeout food, coming back within five minutes.

When Harry got back to the dining room and Tom was still not there, he could only set the two dinners down and sit there to wait. He really couldn't be bothered to go around and search for Tom. Tom knew where the dining room and kitchen were, and he must be hungry, so he could only avoid it for a short amount of time. Meanwhile, Harry didn't want to start without Tom, as that went against the pureblood manners drilled into him. Not having the energy to get the book or summon it, Harry stared at the grey wall in front of him.

Draco and him had a habit of staring at the wall together as they spent time together. They made up for the purpose of trying to get over the war. It didn't work well, they were both bitter and depressed, the shadow of war still looming over them. Strangely enough, they did get along, to a certain extent. Ron didn't approve of the friendship and spent a few days steaming off whereas Hermione was overjoyed. However, they both weren't comfortable enough to spend time with Draco, even with Harry present. Draco didn't care for their opinions of him, so Harry didn't bother caring either.

Draco admitted that he was afraid for his parents, as they were both 'delicate', and won't do well in Azkaban. Harry suspected that he was trying to guilt Harry in getting his parents out as he did for him, but Harry's kindness had a limit, and the limit was getting shorter everyday. The world took a toll on Harry. After mentioning it a few times, Draco gave up, stewing in his thoughts by staring at the cream walls of Harry's lounge room. Harry did too, enjoying the peace and quiet, the calmness that Draco had gained after the war.

A click of a door opening startled Harry out of his thoughts. A neat mop of black hair poked its way in and dark eyes focused on his being. As if reluctant, Tom entered the room slowly, not making a sound as he sat in the seat opposite Harry where the dinner was. As Tom sat down, Harry began his meal with Tom following after a checking his food. Looking sneakily at Tom, Harry found him wolfing down his food, in a somewhat graceful and elegant way. He was probably too starved to care about manners, hungry from puking out what was left in his stomach before. At least he had a small amount of trust in Harry if he was going to eat the food; although normal people don't think of their food being poisoned, Tom was certainly not normal at all.

  
As if in cue, Tom looked up and found Harry staring at him. Embarrassed, a red flush appeared on Tom's cheeks, and he significantly slowed his eating. Harry continued to stare at him, unbothered of getting caught.

He never really planned this well enough. He didn't have a plan at all. As always, he ran straight into things, without thinking of the consequences. He had no food for Tom, no clothes for Tom, nothing for Tom. Or for himself, but that hardly mattered. Tom couldn't find out how unprepared he was for this, for anything, as he would think less of him. Tom already didn't like him, and Harry didn't want to pile it up more. The only thing he did have was money, but even then he didn't want to use too much of it and instead get a job to attain money, because Tom was not becoming a little Malfoy junior. He forbade it. However, Harry didn't have too much interest in jobs. He supposed he could use his wizengamot seats to get a few things going in the magical world that was determined to be stuck in the medieval ages. Other than raising Tom and keeping the magical world away from muggles, he didn't have much of a purpose of being here.

"Harry," Tom said, looking throughly abashed, but spitting the name out as if acid on his tongue. "How did we get here? What was it that you did?" He asked, unable to stop his curiosity. "That's like what I've done before, isn't it? I can make things move without touching them, and hurt those mean to me, and the snakes do what I tell them." Harry moved the food around on his plate, thinking of how similar the words were to those of Dumbledore's memory. It was only a few years away.

"It's called apparition, travelling from one place to another by desiring the location in your mind. Most won't do it until seventeen, unable to do so until their magic cores are fully grown, but it is possible beforehand." Before Harry could mention anymore, Tom interrupted him.

"Magic cores? You aren't making sense! Explain fully." Tom growled, his brows furrowed, frustrated. Harry contemplated how to say it, and decided to just say it outright.

"You're a wizard. All the things you can do is magic. There's a large community of magical creatures that hide from the muggles, the non-magical people. At eleven you'll go to Hogwarts, a school which teaches magic, and at that age you'll get your wand. The wand is the instrument for performing magic. Your magic core is where your magic is centred, and it grows overtime. At seventeen it will be fully grown so you will be seen as an adult."

"I knew it...I knew I was special." Tom muttered under his breath. His eyes shot up. "Where's your wand?" Harry shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the question.

"I, uh, broke it." Harry confessed. The excuse of ‘broke it’ seemed reasonable, as it was broken, by a muggle hellbent on destroying all the wands on the Fourth Day so no one could use magic. Tom narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't matter, I don't need a wand to perform magic." Harry didn't want it to come off as bragging, but it was the truth, and Tom didn't know any better. Tom was able to do wandless magic since he was a little kid, Harry doubted he would bat an eye at such a confession.

"Are you able to learn magic before eleven?" Tom wandered off to another subject. Harry didn't know if he could catch up to his conversation rate. He seems to want to know every little thing, even going back to the past sayings. Voldemort didn't do that. Then again, Voldemort was too wrapped up in anger to process much of anything anyone was saying.

"Yes, but magic you do before Hogwarts is seen as accidental magic. Accidental magic normally happens when there's high emotions or you're in danger and your magic protects you. Even if you control it perfectly, it is seen as accidental. At Hogwarts a trace will be put on your wand to make sure you don't perform any magic out of school, it will be taken off at seventeen, but if you do use magic with your wand before then, you get a warning and if it happens again, you'll be summoned to the ministry where they'll put you on trial. If you were defending yourself by using magic, you could get away with it. If you weren't, you'll most likely have your wand snapped and be expelled from Hogwarts." Tom didn't look happy with this information, and Harry got the sudden urge to make him happy again.

"There's ways around it, of course." Tom stared at him expectantly. "The trace is on the wand, not on your person, if you do magic without a wand it's fine. So unless you do wandless magic in front of muggles, they'll never know. Another way is if you're near an adult. The magic from the adult messes up the tracer, so if you're doing magic then, the tracer will think it's the adult. The last way is a ritual, which gets rid of the trace completely." Harry didn't know if the ritual existed at this time, but it didn't matter, it was only Tom. Tom nodded.

"The Ministry?" He questioned.

"It's what runs the British magical community. The Ministry of Magic decides what laws are passed and trials for criminals, the usual stuff. Most in the Ministry are quite incompetent, however, and normally a person's accomplishments are overlooked for their background and blood. There's purebloods, halfbloods and muggleborns. Purebloods are usually quite arrogant for their blood is seen as fully magical with no dirty muggle blood in. More than half of the purebloods are pureblood supremacists, who believe they are better than everyone because of their blood. Halfbloods are people with obviously, half magical and half muggle blood. They are normally seen on a neutral standing, neither looked down upon or looked above people, unless the most supremacist family comes along. Muggleborns are usually looked down upon, as they come from muggle families, and before they didn't have many rights. It's improved, of course, but there are those who despise them for their blood."

"What blood are you?" Tom asked hesitantly. Harry knew the real question: _what blood am I?_ Harry stood up from his seat.

"You don't have to worry Tom, we're both halfblood." With a flick of his wrist, the empty plates went flying through the air, gently landing in the sink and washing themselves. Tom stared at the performance with an expressionless face.

"How do you know?" Tom stood up quickly from his seat when Harry walked out the room. "How do you know I'm a halfblood?"

"That's a story for another day," Harry said mysteriously, panicking on the inside but smiling calmly outside. "Now," he began again when they arrived at the lounge "meet Snape and David." The black bunny hopped his way to Tom's feet, and looked up at the eight year old, narrowing its beady eyes as if scrutinising him. Sticking his nose up in the air, Snape hopped away again to the fireplace, content with sleeping by it. David stared at Tom with his little orange eyes, the small eyes getting wider by the second, as if not believing what he was seeing. It then let out a shriek in greeting, before returning to the dead mouse the owl must have gotten from the garden.

Tom turned to Harry. "That is the most _ugliest_ bird I've ever seen." He said with a sneer on his face.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5 - Alleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping, social interactions, and shopping.

The fire crackled in the hearth, lighting up the room as the curtains had been shut.

Tom walked into the room, finally finding who he had been looking for for the past thirty minutes. Harry was curled up on a couch right in front of the fire, the black bunny - Snape - was tucked in his arms, both of them were sleeping peacefully. The glowing embers lit up Harry's face in the otherwise dark room, gently enhancing what Tom would admit was a pretty face, never to be spoken aloud. If only the personality reflected the look.

Feeling irritated, Tom went towards the black drapes that had been pulled shut and yanked them wide open, so the brilliant brightness of the sun glared into the room with all its intensity. Hearing Harry groan, Tom opened all the other curtains as well, smirking smugly. As if he was a vampire, Harry quickly turned his back to the light and let out pain filled whines. Tom rolled his eyes. Harry was such a baby.

When the whines suddenly stopped, Tom narrowed his eyes. Harry had fallen back to sleep. It was already past noon! Clenching his fists, he was just about ready to pull Harry off the couch, but instead he had decided to just take the bunny in hopes of getting Harry to wake up. When Tom picked the little thing up, he was reminded of the time when he hung Billy Stubb's rabbit off the rafters, he wondered if Harry would be upset if he done the same to Snape. As if he knew what he was thinking, Snape glared at him with his black beady eyes, daring him to do it. Shaking his head, Tom let the bunny down and it hopped away happily. When Harry didn't even stir, he went with a different approach.

"Please get up, I'm hungry." Tom whimpered. It was true, he was hungry, because the incompetent man before him had no food in his house. The food from yesterday's dinner mysteriously appeared just like Harry, but there was no sign of any other food in the house. He checked it from top to bottom yet only found the rooms that Harry showed him empty of food. He did come across another door which was locked, and it must have been a pretty big room as he estimated he hadn't seen half of the manor yet. "Harrryy." He whined pathetically.

"Tommyy," Harry said, using the same voice. Tom had to grit his teeth to not use his magic on Harry. He loathed his name enough already, he didn't need anymore reasons to hate it. 'Tom' was such an ordinary name, there had to be at least a few hundred in England alone, and changing it to 'Tommy' made it seem childish and weak. Tom's character was the exact opposite. Grabbing Harry's arm, he roughly pulled him off the couch. Harry wasn't that heavy so it was not a strain on his weak eight year old arms. With a loud thud Harry landed on the ground, groaning gruellingly, his head missing the coffee table by an inch.

"Oww," Harry moaned pitiably. Unforgiving dark eyes stared at him from above, its gaze burning a hole through his head. He exaggerated his noises of pain even more. Tom didn't even lift a finger to help him, content to watch him wear himself out until he was finished with his little act. He didn't understand how this man could go from an expressionless noble to a childish wimp.

Seeing that he was not going to get any help, Harry sighed and stopped the noises, sitting up with a pout. "What do you want?" Anger ignited within Tom. What did he want! He wanted this man to be crushed beneath his feet like a bug, that's what he wanted! Harry simply fell asleep and dared to ask him what he wanted so frankly after he gave him no food, no clothes, and no entertainment. Tom was forced to wear the clothes from yesterday as there was nothing in the wardrobe or drawers, just like he had to in the orphanage as well. What was the purpose of bringing him in his home when he wasn't prepared for it or didn't have any use for him. People didn't just do those kind of things. There must have been a goal for taking him away from that stupid sleazy orphanage.

"I'm hungry. I don't have any clothes. There is nothing to do." Tom said, seething inwardly. Harry's stomach rumbled, making a gurgling sound as if it was yelling in its own way when food was mentioned, reminding Harry that he himself was hungry too. A blush appeared on Harry's cheeks, and Tom stared at the heated face, noting that the red looked good on him.

"Ah right, uh, we can go shopping." Harry awkwardly said, rubbing his stomach to stop the embarrassing noises coming out of it. "And there's a library, I'm sure you can amuse yourself there." He stood up, his untouchable and emotionless aura slowly coming back to him. Tom didn't bother to question Harry on the books in the library, because it looked like Harry wasn't quite used to living in the house himself, and he would no doubt be stuck on a question about the library. Tom didn't bother to comment anything, instead impatiently glaring at Harry to tell him to hurry it up already.

Seeing the glare, Harry rushed to summon his money and put on shoes. In his race he almost stepped on top of Snape, but a quick piercing scowl - if bunnies could scowl, which Snape certainly could - sent Harry hopping instead and David squawked in his face whilst flying overhead, his own way of telling Harry he was hungry. It was quite obvious Harry was definitely not prepared for living the life of a responsible adult.

In less than two minutes Harry met with Tom at the door, who was tapping his foot impatiently. Harry offered a small smile to Tom, which Tom glowered at, and opened the door so they could once again apparate outside. A ghost of cold air blew on them as the dark wood was pushed open, reminding them that they were in England and that it was going to be winter soon, despite how warm it was inside. Tom shivered in his grey orphanage clothes, the thin sleeves barely doing anything to protect him from the cold icy air. Suddenly, a warm feeling encompassed him, magic tingling on his skin. He glanced up, finding a pair of emerald eyes locked on to him which quickly looked away.

"Warming charm," Harry muttered quietly. "We'll be going to Diagon Alley, where most British wizards and witches go. When your eleven you'll get your Hogwarts stuff there too. Gringotts is also there, it's a bank run by goblins and is impossible to break into, _supposedly_." Harry said the last word in a quieter voice, like Tom wasn't meant to hear it. He wondered what that meant. Did Harry know of someone who had broken in before?

Instead of questioning Harry, he chose to think of the information he had gained. The idea of goblins seemed otherworldly, like he was in a story book, but then again ever since he was born he was able to do things, special things. And this man who had saved him from the orphanage was no doubt strange, but he went there for Tom, no one else. Of course, there could be many improvements the man could have. Like he could stop being so lazy, be a bit more responsible, have a better naming sense - who name an owl _David_? - and if he could stop that finger twitching like he's eager to grab something it would be good too. Tom didn't think Harry even realised he was doing it. In any case, the list could go on for quite a while on the improvements that Harry could make to his character, and the amount of good things about Harry was very minimal, the only things he could find was his good looks and the potential powerful magic. Then again, Tom has only known him for one day.

Before he knew it, the sensation of being squeezed through a tube unexpectedly happened, and Tom barely kept hold of his magic from lashing out at Harry. Another improvement that Harry had to make. This time, however, he managed to keep his stomach in. If he puked in front of lots of strangers he would die of embarrassment. When Tom was alright on his feet he glared viciously at Harry which got him a bright smile in return. He swore that one day Harry would regret it.

"Where are we?" Tom decided to ask. Across from them was a dingy shop which no one spared a glance at.

"In London. This is the Leaky Cauldron, the gateway between the muggle world and Diagon Alley. Most come here if they want a place to sleep or eat." Harry looked at the building nostalgically, almost reverently. Tom had the urge to ask what's so special about it, but the sad look in Harry's iridescent eyes stopped him.

When Tom tugged at his sleeve, Harry broke out of his stupor and gestured for Tom to follow. The warm and homey atmosphere of the pub greeted them both as they stepped in. Tom's hands immediately found the back of Harry's coat so they wouldn't separate. People of all kinds were in the pub, all strange in their own way. An old man sat at the bar with the tallest pointy hat Tom had ever seen, and tucked away in a dark corner was a suspicious looking lady with a head full of grey hair, looking every bit like a crazy cat lady. Magic was performed everywhere, plates flying around and people in newspapers moving.

They didn't bother to make small talk to anyone going through, and Tom still held desperately at Harry's coat as if Harry would slip away. Harry remembered that this is the first time Tom went to a proper magical place and felt irrationally concerned for a moment, but seeing Tom's entranced expression chased those fears away. He didn't want to overwhelm Tom, if that was even possible.

Harry and Tom sat at a table not quite hidden but not in full display either. Tom was still trying to catch a glimpse at everything going on around him, his expression back in control, and only when he was finished with his observation did he look at Harry. The older man was staring at the table, leaning on his palm pointlessly scratching at the table with a bored face, looking like he wanted to resume his nap there. Luckily, a waitress came and took their order of a few simple sandwiches, all the while blushing at Harry. Tom, sick of her blubbering like some whale, wished she would have an unfortunate accident. They finished quickly, Tom urging Harry to hurry up as he wanted to check out Diagon Alley.

Approaching the brick wall, Harry flowed his magic into his fingers and tapped the right configuration on the wall. Tom didn't know how to feel about the sight. A heavy flow of people passed by continuously, never ending, in all shapes and sizes. The shops all looked spectacular, and Tom wondered how they kept all of this hidden so well. Anyone could walk through into the pub and easily find out what everything is if they act natural. Tom would have to research it later.

As they eased their way through Diagon Alley Tom once again clutched onto Harry's coat for his dear life to not get taken away by the strength of the crowd. With Harry in front of him, physical contact from all the bodies was limited and Tom was thankful for Harry keeping them away even if it was unintentional. They came to a stop at Twilfitt and Tatting's which seemed to be a rather fancy clothing shop for the rich. The upper class - purebloods, Tom reminded himself - had to be the ones going into these kinds of shops.

A man came out of the shop with muddy brown hair and black eyes. He looked down his long nose at Harry and Tom, sneering in disgust at the sight of them. Tom glared at the man, his grip getting tighter on the coat, gritting his teeth at being looked down on. Harry took it in stride though, his expressionless mask getting colder, his eyes were knives cutting through the man, destroying his sense of superiority with his magic surrounding the man just as cold as his gaze. It was a clear message: I'm better than you.

The man stopped sneering immediately, feeling a sense of fear in his gut, and raised his brow. Glancing up and down at Harry, seemingly checking how Harry held himself, he found himself regretting his actions.

"Hello," The man said, offering his hand to Harry. "I don't think I've seen you around before. And trust me, I know everyone around here despite their background. I'm Cantankerous Nott, and you are?" Harry shook the hand gently, before taking it back. He put his hand on the back of Tom's neck, pushing his head down slightly and nodding his own head in an almost imperceptible bow.

"Lord Nott, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Harrison Peverell, and this is Tom." Harry moved his hand from Tom's neck to his head. Nott also done an almost unnoticeable bow of his head before he straightened up again. He was obviously stunned by the revelation of Harry's name but his mask turned back to indistinguishable.

"I haven't heard the Peverell name in a long time, I had the belief they all died out." Nott stated, his eyes revealing the nearest trace of curiosity.

"Ah, I'm sure many people do hold that belief. My ancestors merely moved to America instead and recently came back. Now Tom and I are all that's left." Tom didn't dare to comment how he only met Harry one day ago and is not even related to the Peverell line to his knowledge. Harry and him could pass as brothers, they looked alike enough, with matching black hair and aristocratic features. If not, Harry could possibly say that Tom is his son and he's older than he looks. Hell, Tom didn't even know how old Harry is. He only looks around ten years older than Tom.

"Interesting, to think old lines are coming back out. I have to ask, though, you said you have only recently came back? You're accent states otherwise." Nott asked, gripping onto the error in Harry's story.

"Yes, that I do. The person who raised me lived in England before raising me, and they were really the only person I had contact with. And you, Lord Nott? Why are you so interested in my story? I don't think I look that interesting." Harry smiled but his eyes didn't hold any emotion.

"I don't think you are seeing your own worth, Lord Peverell. I must admit your looks are rather exquisite and your background even more so. You seem rather mysterious, I have to say. I would love to get to know you more." Nott praised Harry, his own smile appearing. Harry laughed. Tom's knuckles turned white from gripping too tightly.

"Thank you for your observation, Lord Nott, but I'm sure you have a wife to be getting home to."

"That I do. As well as a child the same age as Tom here, maybe we could arrange tea sometime?" He offered instead.

"I think that would be lovely." Harry smiled and after a few more minutes of talking Cantankerous Nott walked away. "They're all wolves," Harry said to Tom after Nott was far enough away, his face dark. "all of them."

They went into Twilfitt and Twatting's and ordered some robes for both of them without anymore distractions. It was all high quality clothes, and Tom's worries of money were brief as Harry took out more than enough coins. There, Harry explained magical currency to him. When it came to the actual picking clothes, Harry looked just as hopeless Tom felt with him, but he took hold of the situation as Harry sat in the corner being bossed around by an eight year old. The worker was more than a bit surprised.

They both left the shop satisfied with new robes on, Tom much happier and Harry with a significantly lighter pocket. Harry explained to him as they were walking that he will just owl order some groceries at home. Tom made sure to remember to remind Harry about it later, because he would no doubt forget or put it off to do whenever he feels like it. And that would be in a couple of years, knowing Harry.

"Why don't you get a wand?" Tom asked as they walked past a second-hand wand shop.

"Hm?" Harry looked back at him, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Everyone in this Alley we've went past has a wand except children. Wandless magic is rare isn't it? Otherwise everyone wouldn't need a wand and at least some people would be walking around without it. And your finger keeps on twitching like you need something. You want your wand, don't you? So why don't you get a wand now so when people take their wands out and question why you don't have your wand out, you have to say you use wandless magic." Tom said.

"I arranged this shopping trip for you so I didn't want to bother. But I suppose you'll get to see what it's like getting a wand, so I guess we can go to Ollivanders then." Tom rolled his eyes at the word 'arranged'. Harry didn't _arrange_ anything, he only got up at Tom's request. If Tom didn't ask, then Harry would probably still be lying on that couch, cuddling up with the bunny and the owl screeching in the background.

Ollivanders was a small shop filled with rows upon rows of boxes piled on top of each other. No one was at the counter as they walked into shop and as they stood there for a minute it appeared no one was coming. Tom was just about to ask Harry where Ollivander was but Harry brought him closer before he could get a word out. Suddenly, an old man appeared with a head full of white hair from nowhere. Harry didn't react, but Tom flinched before he could stop himself.

"Hello. I don't think I've seen you before." The old man said, now standing in front of them.

"Hi, my names Harrison Peverell and this is Tom. Tom and I are new to England and I find myself in need of a new wand as my previous one had been broken."

"Broken! How did it break?" Ollivander looked horrified by the mere idea of a wand breaking. Harry chose his next words carefully.

"I think I put too much power into a spell and it snapped." Harry shrugged, as if saying 'not my fault'.

"And your wand? Who created it and what were the materials?" Ollivander asked, turning away to get some wands.

"It was passed down my family, and I know neither the origin nor the materials."

"Start from scratch then. Wand arm up." Tom watched as a measuring tape went zooming towards Harry, measuring every inch of him, starting from his raised right arm. Ollivander offered a few wands to Harry but as soon as Harry put his hand over them, he shook his head. For what seemed like years the process continued: wand offered, raise hand over it, shake of the head, wand taken away. Ollivander seemed to be growing happier by the minute whilst Tom and Harry were the exact opposite.

Forty-five minutes passed before Harry finally nodded at a wand. When Harry picked it up, red sparks were emitted out of the end in a small display of tiny fireworks. The wand was certainly happy.

"Twelve inches. Hawthorn wood. Dragon Heartstring core. Six Galleons. Although, I do sense another wand calling for you, Mr Peverell. A wand that is a much better match for you." Ollivander said, staring at the wand in Harry's hand.

"Yes, there is. Unfortunately, it is in the hands of another, so I'm unable to get it. Maybe sometime I'll snatch it back. I don't think it'll be performing very well with it's so called 'master' right now anyway." Harry confessed, giving the information up as he didn't think it was worth hiding. He paid the money and put a hand on Tom's shoulder, gesturing for him to go.

"May I know what this wand is?" Ollivander asked, but his voice didn't hold any curiosity, it was like he already knew and just wanted to confirm.

"Maybe someday Ollivander, I'll let you see it." Harry bid goodbye and they left the store.

"What wand is he talking about? Didn't your wand break?" Tom questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yes my wand broke, but it wasn't my main wand. My main wand is in the hands of some nobody because I lost it. I could call it to me if I knew where it was, but I don't so it doesn't matter anymore." Harry shrugged like it was just some minor thing. Tom, however, confirmed his thoughts about Harry being an absolute _idiot_. How do you lose a wand? It's impossible! It would be on you all the time, it protects you so you'd be sure to remember it, but Harry shrugs it off like he just lost his keys.

Instead of pursuing the subject and having a mental breakdown because of the idiocy of Harry, Tom decided to just drop the subject. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to Knockturn Alley. I'm giving you a choice here, we don't need to go if you don't want to. It's where the more… _questionable_ shops are. They're darker, and some will probably be a bit illegal in the eyes of the ministry. If we do go though, remember to stick by me, because there are some shady people there that will eat cute little boys like you. And I mean _eat_."

"I want to go!" Tom agreed, letting the 'cute little boy' comment pass. For now, anyway. They continued walking past the white building of Gringotts, and back to the Leaky Cauldron, going into a darker alleyway which had little to no people in. It was like Diagon Alley was the light and Knockturn was the dark, and the Leaky Cauldron is where they clashed. Tom went back to holding Harry's coat, unwilling to part with it as they ventured down the gloomy path. They didn't go far, though, and stopped at a shop called Borgin and Burkes.

"Tom, when we go inside don't touch anything. I know your responsible, probably more responsible than me, but there is some dangerous stuff in this Alley that could harm or kill you. If you find something just tell me, okay?" Harry warned him, bending down to his level, although not having to bend far because Harry was _short_. Tom nodded.

The shop was decorated by an assortment of things. The shabby shop had the weirdest things Tom had yet to see, with a box decorated with fingers stabbing into it and a glass full of moving eyes. There was was a large pile of bones in the corner, and Tom didn't think they were animal ones, which still had some meat and blood clinging to them. A small box was opened showing a beautiful sapphire ring but inlaid in the band was small nails poking through which could for sure rip into a person's finger. Behind the counter was a man who fit right into the filthiness of the shop, looking like Harry does when he wants to go to sleep, but Harry was much more prettier at it then the man.

Harry led him over to a bookshelf which was filled with fat books falling apart. Tom checked some of the titles, finding each more interesting than the last. _The Most Cruelest Curses, 50 Ways to Torture Your Enemies Without Killing Them, Juiciest Jinxes_ , and so on. He looked up at Harry to find him smiling and silently laughing at some of the titles of the books. Tom rolled his eyes; Harry was such an idiot.

The bell ringed to show another customer coming in, and when Tom looked he wished he never had. It was a rather fat lady with a face full of makeup that did not do any favours for her, despite being caked in it. She moved around the shop with ease, showing that she had been there lots before, her eyes sparkling greedily. Tom stepped close to Harry.

Harry didn't pay her any mind, going about his own business as he was done laughing at the books. They passed by several more strange items that Harry didn't pay any mind to but Tom looked at curiously with Harry's warning still firmly lodged in his head. When Harry did finally bother to pay attention to his surroundings and look up at the other customer, his eyes widened slightly and he his breath stopped for a second before his breathing and expression returned to normal. You would notice if you weren't looking, but Tom was most definitely paying attention to Harry even if he was observing the things around him.

Tom sent him a questioning glance which Harry shook his head at. They resumed their browsing, going over to look at the jewellery. Tom rolled his eyes at this, because whatever jewellery that was in this store was sure to be worthless. Harry did find something to look at, however, his eyes fixated on a locket with an emerald S. It was a pretty locket, and with a few washings it would be gorgeous, and Harry looked at it like he couldn't believe his luck. When the pudgy woman came closer, Harry's eyes narrowed in thought.

"Tommy, I need you to distract that woman with your cuteness, can you? It'll be in your best interest to do so." Harry said.

"That makes it sound like you're going to torture me if I don't, Harry." Tom remarked while his eyes went over to the lady who was inching closer by the second.

"Sorry, but you should want this locket and she's going to want it as well." Tom shrugged and went over to the woman, smiling softly at her, giving a shy expression.

"Excuse me, Miss?" The woman looked at him and smiled in what was probably supposed to be in a kind manner but on her face it looked like she wanted to eat him right up, like Harry said people would do. "Father send me and my brother here for a learning experience, but my brother is _absolutely hopeless_ with these sorts of things, and you look like you know what all these things are." She nodded in confirmation, all the while smugly smiling. "Can you please explain them to me?" A balloon had been burst. Explanations of all the things around them tumbled out the woman's mouth in a waterfall of information, and if it was true or not, Tom didn't care. He was only paying attention to Harry.

"Mr Burke," Harry called out, his voice quieter compared to the woman's booming voice. The man at the counter sat up quickly, staring at Harry greedily. "I want this locket." The man's eyes shone.

"Three hundred Galleons." The man stated, leaving no room for arguments. Tom's fists clenched. Harry's wand was six, and the clothes altogether was fifty, and yet this filthy man dared to set the price so high. Harry was having none of it either.

"Mr Burke, I don't think you realise the position your in." Harry's cold magic filled up the room, prickling at everything it touched. Burke's face froze. Tom inwardly grinned. The woman didn't notice. "A little _Crucio_ this far in wouldn't make a difference to anyone, and don't have silly thoughts of fighting me, you won't win. So, the price?"

"Fifty," Burke's voice wavered, his body shaking. Harry smiled sweetly. "Fifteen! Fifteen and that's it!" Harry slammed the money onto the desk and took the locket out.

"Nice doing business with you." Harry strode over to Tom and the woman, tucking the locket in his pocket. "Tommy, we have to go back now, Father is waiting. I think you've inconvenienced this nice lady enough. I'm sorry for the trouble my brother has caused, he's just curious about everything, and I am clueless about these things." Harry said, showing he was paying attention for once. The woman flushed, her eyes roaming all over Harry's body.

"Oh, oh no, he didn't inconvenience me at all. I think I'd be interested in discussing more with him, as he was positively curious, and not much people are. I'm Hepzibah Smith, I'd love for you two to come have tea with me sometime. I've got quite the collection of antiques that I'm sure you'd both love." She offered, her eyes still locked onto Harry's body.

"Why, thank you! We'd be pleased to. Ah, where are my manners. I'm Harrison Peverell, and this is Tom." Harry repeated for the third time that day. "I'm sorry, we've got to be going. Father is still waiting." They bid goodbye to the lady and left the store.

"Why'd you accept, Harry? You could have just said no." If Harry said good manners, then Tom would be ready to go back to the orphanage. He didn't want to meet that whore ever again. She obviously just wanted to ogle at Harry.

"That woman has things Tom, things that we can get from her if we play our cards right. I accepted Nott's because he has reputation, and that's how we get to the higher place. The Peverell line will surely be noticed by many, but it's better if we make connections too. I'm sure you'll have the same ideas too in a few years." Tom stared at Harry's back as they walked through the Alley back to the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't know how to feel about Harry anymore. First it was anger and hate, and he was sure it would stay that way, but through this trip he learned a lot about Harry. "I'm exhausted from all this social interaction. My lovely couch is still waiting for me at least." Harry said in a casual manner, yawning tiredly. Tom rolled his eyes; Harry was still just Harry.

When they apparated back home, Tom was able to stay fully on his feet and stand normally. Harry grumbled about it, saying he wished he could do that when he was side-apparating. That comment made it into a big accomplishment for Tom, but then he remembered who said it, and figured it wasn't such a big deal and Harry was just an idiot for not knowing how to land properly while side-apparating.

As soon as they got into the entrance hall, Harry ran (meaning he walked a bit faster than normal, because pureblood etiquette does not accept running) to his couch, all the while muttering under his breath 'this is why I don't go outside. It's horrible. Absolutely horrible.' Tom called after him to remember to owl order food, which was met with a groan.

Tom was going back to his room when he remembered the library doors. He went there instead, seeing if they were still locked, finding out they weren't. He was severely impressed as he looked around the room, finding the biggest library he had ever seen. He was sure he could live in it. However, as he walked past a few rows, he found he couldn't go any further despite there being nothing blocking him. Tom rolled his eyes. It was probably something Harry had done to protect him from dangerous books so nothing could hurt him. He let it pass for now, he would just nag Harry later. Settling down with a book about basic magic theory, time passed quickly.

When his stomach rumbled for food he finally moved from his position. He brought the book with him, knowing that Harry wouldn't mind, and left it in his room to read later. Harry was easily found in his 'lovely couch' along with Snape in the exact same position Tom found them in before. The fire had gone out, however, and there was an owl tapping impatiently on the window.

He let the owl in, finding Harry did in fact order the groceries, and the owl flew away with a peck to his finger after he removed the burden from it. He was about to tell Harry about making him food, but when he saw the peaceful expression on Harry's face he thought better of it. Rolling his eyes, he decided he'd just make a simple sandwich for himself and feed some raw meat to the stupid owl David, and he went to get a blanket for Harry so he wouldn't get a cold sleeping on the couch like that. Otherwise, it would be him looking after Harry, and that would be bothersome.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

It was a month after Tom's adoption that Harry felt that he should really do something to get closer to Tom.

Tom had been ignoring him wherever he went. Harry thought that the Diagon Alley trip would be a rather opportunal bonding experience which would create a joyous friendship between the two, hopefully becoming best friends at a later stage, successfully avoiding the _Who I'm Going to Torture List_. Unfortunately, that didn't happen at all. It was regrettable that he didn't try harder to woo Tom to not torturing him during the trip but he didn't want to lay it on too thickly.

Despite knowing this, he did think of future plans they could have a go at when they do become best friends forever, like Tom's first Quidditch match and Harry sneaking into the school to show him all the secret passages and all that stuff. It just shows to not count your chickens before the eggs have hatched. Sure, Tom did have his moments of talking to him without a sneer on his face, but after they got back home the peace between them quickly came to an end.

It was more of a Cold War than anything, except that only one side participated and the other tried to cozy up to the other. It's rather obvious which side is which. Whenever they ran into each other in the halls Tom would quickly turn the other way, completely ignoring Harry's stuttering, and disappear into thin air. It infuriated Harry, but only made him want to try harder, disregarding the longing to give up and live comfortably while he could. Besides, it's not as if Tom would randomly turn on him in the future if he hasn't done anything yet. At least he thought he hadn't done anything yet; he can't quite remember. It's only after those thoughts that the memories come rushing back, his mind clearing, and he remembers that Tom will be going insane in a few decades and killing anyone who so much as looked at him wrong. And Harry had thrown multiple glares at Tom's back before, which he certainly caught.

Anyway, it's not as if Tom disappeared for the entire month never to be seen again. Tom came to him if he needed something, which was mostly food thanks to Harry's amazing cooking skills, although he disappeared right after. He also came if he needed some further explanation of a subject the book didn't provide. Harry, for all his dimwittedness at times, had read a lot of books and could remember them in perfect clarity, giving Tom an explanation that didn't make Tom think he was much more of an idiot he originally thought.

While Tom spent most of the time in the library, only coming out to eat and sleep, Harry spent most of his time sleeping or lazing about. He was growing more and more displeased about the current arrangements and felt that he should really make an effort to be closer to Tom. However, the only thing that Tom was seemingly interested in at the moment was the books in the library.

That led Harry to thoughts of tutoring. As much as Harry loved Hogwarts, the education there was sorely lacking, missing things that other schools provided and deemed necessary for the children's futures. If the History of Magic teacher was still the same as when he had been in Hogwarts then it would definitely need brushing up on, and Care of Magical Creatures was inadequate in their teaching as it mostly taught of things you'd need to find yourself rather than randomly coming across it, and didn't provide the necessary information to battle that creature if it was dangerous. And Harry was certainly not letting Tom go to Hogwarts without the proper purebloods etiquette or the right knowledge of the Dark Arts.

In any case, purebloods normally gained tutors at the first sign of magic so they would be prepared, and Tom had definitely shown his magic extensively. They even taught the Dark Arts, despite it being dangerous. If Harry got Tom a tutor in the Dark Arts or tutored Tom himself (he had dabbled in those bits of magic after all) it would push Tom in the right direction, telling Tom that Harry didn't care if he ended as dark as they come - if Tom cared for Harry's opinions at all. Well, that is if Harry didn't end up on the _Who I'm going to Torture List_ , because if he did find himself on that stupid List then Tom will have to become an evil Dark Lord by running on little to no magic education. Harry was not going to be put on that List. However, Harry was reluctant to let anyone in their cozy little home because then someone would know where they lived and if one person knew, soon the whole world would know. Well not to that extent, but it held the same meaning. Harry only had the option of tutoring Tom himself.

“Hey,” Harry greeted Tom as he walked into the library. Tom briefly looked over the top of his current book - _Curious Creatures_ \- to throw a glare for disturbing him before he was once again absorbed in the words. Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should continue, Tom seemed fine learning on his own after all, but gathered up his courage and approached him anyway.

Tom had been going through books at a fast pace, but he only stayed on one subject until he satisfied his curiosity. Now it was creatures, before it was wands, and before that it was wards. Harry knew Tom was interest with the darker section of the library, as it was wardered off, and he was hoping to use that to his advantage, bribing Tom. Even if the bribe didn't work, he was sure he'd let Tom in the darker section at some point, as long as he checked what was being taken out. It was a rule Tom would have to live by. 

"Um, I was thinking, the school that you're going to go in a few years can be lacking at times, so I was wondering if you'd like turtoring. Me, tutoring you." Harry stumbled over his words. Tom gave him a _you-think-you're-smart-enough-for-that?_ look, his dark eyes staring at Harry. "Well, you're going to have to learn a few things because the wizarding world is pretty harsh, and I'd rather you be voluntary to it." After a few seconds of silence, Tom sighed.

"What can you possibly teach me that I can't teach myself?" Harry frowned at the answer. As much as he was lenient with Tom's rudeness, he didn't enjoy being disrespected to by an eight year old. 

"Not everything is like it says in books. And believe it or not, there's not books in here for everything. I've got lifelong experiences whereas you do not. Etiquette is a must, otherwise purebloods would look down on you. Wizarding traditions are customary. Light magic and Neutral magic will be easy to teach and will get you ahead of your peers when the time comes. Defence is always good to know and can only become better when put into practice. If you feel like it, I can teach you..." His eyes slid down the library to look at the books further down, shielded by an invisible ward. "Dark magic. Illegal but useful."

Tom's back straightened as he heard the last words, obviously taken by the idea. Hesitantly, he nodded.

"Alright. We'll start tomorrow then." 

The next few days were full of Harry teaching Tom. It exhausted Harry to no end and Tom didn't relent on wanting to learn things for most of the day. His morning and afternoon naps were now nonexistent, instead replaced by spending time on wizarding customs and spells of all kinds. The Dark Arts was still an untraveled path, even though Tom was clearly antsy to learn it.

However, Harry was happy with the results, no matter how many hours of sleep he lost because of it. Tom was warming up to him and only threw the occasional insult. It was a clear step from the way they lived before, Tom actively seeking him out to begin the day. The only thing Harry was afraid of was when he would run out of knowledge to share. Would it all stop and go back to the way it was before? Harry could only guess, so he continued with his fears kept hidden. 

It was a few weeks after the Diagon Alley trip did he get two owls. The first one was from Hepzibah Smith, asking them if they want to come over for tea sometime and look at her antiques, basically flaunting her wealth and knowledge. The second was from Nott, inviting him over to one of the pureblood meetups where they compare who has the biggest manor or the tallest pile of galleons; the letter didn't say that, of course. 

He readily accepted both, the first in a more flirty manner and the second in the most poshest way he could think of. It amused him greatly. 

Two days later, they were standing outside a large house that belonged to one Hepzibah Smith. An old house elf ushered them in, which Harry remembered to be the one Tom put the blame on. The hallway was lined with a wide range of knickknacks and junk, shelves stacked on top of one another and all full, it's background of pink wallpaper making them seem worthless. They got led to a room full of potted plants which Harry recognised as the room she had chatted with Tom in the memory. 

He had a feeling of déjà vu as everything was the same as in the memory. The horrid woman was dressed in that elaborate ginger wig and pooling purple robes. They must be the only clothes in her wardrobe. Two greedy eyes stared at them, filling with lust and raking down Harry's body. He was just glad she didn't send a leer at Tom, because he couldn't handle talking with paedophile, even if he himself looked quite young. 

"Hello Harry, Tom. I'm sorry I couldn't greet you at the door." Harry didn't need to guess why she couldn't greet them at the door; he was sure it took her a whole hour to get out of her seat. 

"No worries, Madam. Tommy has been quite excited to meet you again and see your antiques. He couldn't stop mentioning the meeting and wouldn't give me the peace for an hour." He lied. _Tommy_ was absolutely dreading the meeting and complained about it multiple times. Harry smiled, grabbing her hand and planting a kiss on it, making her flush heavily. He pushed Tom on his lower back so he would do the same but he hid behind Harry instead. "Ah, shy now, are we?" Harry didn't blame him; he too, would rather kiss a pig than this horrible woman. 

For the next excruciating hour that seemed to want to go by at a snail's pace, they endured listening endlessly to the woman's screechy voice explaining about one piece of junk or another, flirtatious comments mixed in which was the only source of amusement. Harry's eyes had almost fallen shut multiple times and Tom was leaning on him, he too fighting a battle to keep his eyes open.

"...And that is all my priceless artifacts." Her long rant ended, jolting Harry out of his sleepy daze. He had to blink a few times into awareness and frown when there was no Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. She must want more from him to show the cup. However, Harry didn't think he could go through one more minute of her explaining about some goblin's loincloth or her disgusting playful comments. 

He was planning to wait it out and have her voluntarily show them the Cup and then convince her using a few spells to give them the damn thing, but it seemed it was not meant to be. His eyes traveled to the elf that was waiting patiently by her master's side, waiting for an order. Spells react differently on house elves, and he didn't want to take a chance with one, no matter how much people look down on them.

"I think we could all use another round of tea, don't you?" He smiled charmingly at Hepzibah. Her dark lips then pulled into a piggish grin that she probably thought looked pretty but only served to remind them to pay attention to their teeth's health. 

"Hokey! Go get our dear guests some more tea." 

"Hokey do that, Madam." The house elf popped away. Not hiding anything, he bluntly took his wand out right under her gaze. Hepzibah shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. 

"What do you need your wand for, Harry?" She asked, her eyes locked onto the the wood with an alarmed look.

"Oh, nothing really. I just need you to comply. _Imperio_." He cast, watching as her eyes glazed over. Before Tom could ask anything, the house elf came back, placing tea onto the table before them, oblivious to what had just happened. "Can we see it, Madam?"

"Oh, of course! But remember to keep it a secret, Burke has his eye out for it!" She leaned forward as if they were discussing a secret. "Hokey, get the Cup." The house elf paused for a second before popping away again and coming back holding a case. Smith snatched the case off of her and slowly opened the case, showing off the golden Cup that was inside. "Helga Hufflepuff's Cup! Priceless and my most treasured. But, I suppose it does belong with the others..." She sighed sadly, looking at the cup with longing eyes. 

"I promise we'll look after it. It does belong to the whole set, after all." He gently took the case as it was offered, unnoticeably sending a memory-altering spell at her so she would think she gave the Cup willingly and make sure she doesn't have any thoughts of trying to take it back. 

"Ah, of course..." 

A few moments later, they were out the door with one Cup in hand. Harry observed the Cup that would be Tom's Horcrux, if Harry decided he would let Tom make the Horcruxes. They led him to insanity and beyond and as long as no one like Dumbledore got in the way then nothing could go wrong. Yet, as Harry's eyes slid down to the boy next to him, he can't help feeling sadness when he thought of such a path for Tom. Pushing the irritable feeling aside, he distracted himself with answering Tom's questions.

"The Imperius Curse is one of the Unforgivable Curses, which could earn you a lifetime sentence to Azkaban. So don't do it, well...don't get caught doing it. It allows you to control the person basically. But you have to be careful with it as people can fight it." Tom stared up at him, something different from when he looked at him before but Harry couldn't put his finger on it. 

"Have you used it on me?" He asked innocently. Harry chuckled and smiled down at Tom.

"I think you would have noticed and be one of the ones who can block it off if I cast it on you. Besides, I have no reason to." 

"What would happen if I cast it on you?" A minor alarm went off in Harry's head at the simple question. 

"Nothing. I can fight it."

"What are the other two curses? Will I learn them too?"

"All in good time, Tommy."


End file.
